13 Questions
by wallflower.raine
Summary: Short humor fic. Thirteen overhears a conversation between Chase and Foreman that obviously ticks off Cameron. Eventual 13/Cam.
1. One, Two, Three

_(one)_

"**Could you go get me a syringe, please?"** Cameron mumbles through the IV bag she has clenched in her teeth. Thirteen rolls her eyes. As much as she would love to play Dr. Cameron's assistant, she has better things to do: save lives, for instance. Cameron turns her blonde head and shoots Thirteen a look.

"Go," she says, though it sounds like 'gwhy' through her teeth; Thirteen sighs and walks to the supply cabinet, silently cursing the nursing staff and MA's for neglecting their duties. She rounds the corner and hears Chase's accent echoing through the hallway; she thinks nothing of it and continues toward him, until she hears her name.

So, like a rational, well trained member of House's team, she crouches behind a potted plant.

"I'm telling you, House is going to fire one of us. I don't even know if I want to stay; I'm not entirely sure why Cameron hasn't gone back to the ER…"

"Talk to her," Thirteen recognizes the voice as Foreman's.

"There hasn't been a lot of talking."

"Well, that's your fault," Thirteen detects the dislike in Foreman's voice and smirks. Foreman continues, "If you two can't get the issues between you two sorted out, it's just going to get worse. You have to tell her about the dictator."

"She's already accusing me of cheating."

"Maybe she's projecting," Thirteen feels a lump form in her throat as Foreman speaks. She stands and smoothes out her white-coat as she hears their footsteps approaching.

"Cheating with whom?" Chase laughs. "Thirteen?" He rounds the corner and nearly smacks into the brunette. Foreman is standing beside him with a look of bemusement plastered on his face.

"Uh, hi Thirteen," Chase pauses, not sure of how much she's heard. "I was just…"

"What or who am I cheating on now?" Thirteen crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows. Chase looks uncomfortable.

"A bet House made… he said you would break up Cuddy and Lucas with your bisexual wiles," Chase licks his lips; he's lying. Thirteen stiffens her mouth; Chase takes it as a look of annoyance while Thirteen is trying to hide a smile. His excuse makes absolutely no sense.

"Cuddy isn't my type," the brunette brushes roughly past the two men and down the hall to the supply cabinet.

_(two)_

**"Why are you still here?"** Thirteen re-enters the patient's room with the syringe. Cameron looks up from a chart; the man they are treating is asleep, evident by the faint snoring coming from the bed. Thirteen hands the needle to Cameron, who injects the IV and shrugs, shaking her head.

"That's not entirely your business."

"I think it is, since Cuddy is about to blow a gasket. I heard Chase and Foreman talking."

"Really now?" Cameron deadpans, "Two colleagues who have worked together for five years speaking together? Unimaginable."

"Well, I thought you'd like to know that your darling Aussie was confiding in Foreman that one of us is going to get fired, and he's not sure why you're still working with House. You're not in love with him, are you?" Thirteen sticks out her bottom lip mockingly and Cameron scowls.

"Yes, I want to divorce Chase and have crabby, crippled babies with a man who will probably leave me in the future for his best friend."

Thirteen snorts and leans against the wall.

"I thought so."

The two stand in silence for a few moments before Cameron purses her lips and sets the chart back on the bed. She gives Thirteen a look before walking out of the room; Thirteen wonders what she said.

_(three)_

**"Are you sleeping with Thirteen?" **House sits in his usual place at the table, his feet up. The question is open, addressed to no one in particular.

"I thought I was supposed to be using my bisexual wiles to seduce Cuddy," Thirteen mumbles. She's staring into a file, stirring her coffee absentmindedly; she lightly elbows Taub, who grins.

"Whoever said that?" House sits up and props his head on his fist. "Because it wasn't me…" he scans the men in the room, passing Foreman's expressionless face and settling on Chase, who is nervously shuffling papers.

"I thought they didn't have rumors in Australia."

"House, that makes no sense."

"Where's your wifey?"

"I'm going to assume with the patient, considering he needs to be monitored…" Chase and House stare at each other for a moment and Thirteen shrugs innocently when they both glance at her. Chase looks slightly defeated; he's been caught in the lie.

"Thirteen, go check on Cameron. But I'd advise you to keep your bisexual wiles in check—Daddy's watching," House tilts his head slightly and winks, then focuses his gaze back on Chase. Thirteen sweeps out of the room, leaving to the men alone with House and his malicious smile.

**Author's Note: I've got a House-fic craving, haha. It's hard to write SVU when you've got**

**Thirteen on the brain; anyways, hope you enjoy, and yes, this will go up to thirteen, haha. Title seems self-explanatory. C;**

**C&C is loved~ though I use fic as a warm up, as previously explained.**

**--Wallie**


	2. Four

_(four)_

**"House… what are you doing?"** Wilson is sitting at his desk when House comes storming in. His friend pauses, leans on his cane, and sticks his neck out. His nose twitches a few times and his eyes narrow. Wilson is instantaneously reminded of an old bloodhound.

"She… has been here." He states, pursing his lips. Wilson sighs and replaces his pen on his desk. He leans back in his chair.

"Who, House?"

House doesn't respond. Instead he paces across the room, swinging his cane and hobbling awkwardly.

"House, I really don't have time for this." Wilson crosses his arms. House holds a finger to his lips.

"Can you hear it?"

"Here what, House? I don't hear any—"

"Shhh…" House spins on the ball of his foot and widens his eyes. Wilson cocks an eyebrow.

"It's coming," House licks his lips and smiles manically. "Can you hear it? Can you hear it? Oh my God, Wilson. OH MY GOD!" House waves his arms in a spasmodic motion; by now Wilson is balanced precariously in his chair. The sweet-faced doctor is looking skeptically at his best friend, but he can feel anxiety rising in his stomach. What could House be talking about? Was he… _high?_ He couldn't possibly have taken Vicodin again, could he? What if a patient hit him and he had a slow bleed in his brain? What if—

"BOO!" House screams. His cane thunders down on Wilson's desk and he presses his face so close to the other doctor's that their noses are nearly touching.

Wilson falls out of his seat.

"Ow! House! Did you come in here just to do that? For the love of God! I could've cracked my head open!"

"But you didn't," House folds his arms quietly across his chest and sinks into Wilson's couch. "I needed to test a theory. And you just proved that theory to be true."

"Really? What theory is that?"

"The theory that mass hysteria starts with one person; people are naturally empathic. We're social. We tune into the fear and anxiety of others not only because we're social, but because we're selfish. If another is feeling afraid, the others will follow suit, so not to be eaten by a lion. Or, rather, to raise the chances that their friend will be eaten by the lion…"

"Um…"

House stands, glances at Wilson and walks out the door as if nothing happened. He rounds the corridor and takes the hallway that leads him to his patient's room, rather than his office; Cameron is inside, tending to the patient again. The man is asleep once more and the blonde is sitting in a chair by his bed, one eye on a medical journal and the other on the patient's stats.

Sure, Chase was a paranoid, floppy-haired asshole, but House had never seen him in the state he was currently in. In fact, it almost seemed like his paranoid delusion had some reason; not only was _he_ acting guilty, but House recognized the look mirrored in Cameron's face every time she thought he wasn't looking.

But what could that guilt be about…?

House parkes himself just out of sight, behind a support beam. He leans against the drywall and clicks his tongue. What could sweet, innocent Cameron possibly have to hide? He glances at her again and furrows his brow when he sees that her mouth is moving; she couldn't possibly be talking to the patient. House cranes his neck and sees that in the corner of the room, sitting cross-legged in a chair is Thirteen, a smile tugging on her lips. There was a look behind her eyes that House identifies almost instantly; glancing back at Cameron, he scratches his chin.

Maybe Cameron's guilt was subconscious and she didn't know it yet, but she had definitely dug herself into a hole.

The sliding glass door of the patient's room swooshes as someone opens it and House turns, walking back towards his office. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the flush of Cameron's pale cheeks and the way she purses her lips as she waves goodbye to her companion.

House smiles.

He loved a good soap opera, and by the looks of it, one would eventually unfold in the hospital, right in front of him. He just had to set the TiVo…

**Author's Note: This was so much fun to write, guys! I hope you enjoyed House's perspective. Please C&C and I love you all. Feel free to ask any questions **

**--Wallie**


	3. Five: 'Addition & Subtraction'

_(five) _

** "Do you hate the guys as much as I do right now?" **Cameron lays her medical journal down on the table and sighs. Thirteen doesn't look up. She shrugs, her eyes focused on the scrap paper she's doodling on. They're sitting at the table in Diagnostics, on-call for the night.

"You're the one who volunteered to stay. Then House made me stay here to babysit you because he was afraid you'd 'spill your bleeding heart all over the patient.' So actually, since I'm here because of you, I hate you more than the guys right now," Thirteen rolls her eyes and checks her pager. It is going to be a long night, stuck here with Dr. Cameron. She glances up at the woman, who has gone back to her literature. For some strange reason, there is something alluring about Cameron. She can't quite put her finger on it; maybe it's the forbidden nature of her, or her almost painful straightness. Either way, Thirteen is giving Cameron the eye.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when Cameron glances up with a puzzled look.

"What?" the strange blush that she observed earlier is back, spread apple to apple over the blonde's cheeks.

"Nothing." Thirteen goes back to her doodle; she draws a brick wall and labels it 'Foreman'. Next to it, she draws what looks like a kangaroo and labels it 'Chase.' Both men had opted to go home early; it was the first time they had been given the option that week. Taub had scuttled out of the building soon after, which left Thirteen, who was doing paperwork, and Cameron, who, unknown to Thirteen, had been avoiding Chase that day. Thirteen was about to leave when House caught her and informed her that she would be continuing the patient watch with Cameron.

"Nice drawing." Cameron interrupts Thirteen's thoughts and gestures to the paper. Thirteen nods without looking up, "So, why didn't you scurry out of here with your kangaroo early tonight?" she asks.

Cameron gives the brunette a hostile look while deciding whether she should trust her or not. Remy Hadley is not the type to gossip; she knows that. Maybe it's the sleep depravity or a creeping infatuation, but either way, she lets it slip out that Chase is becoming increasingly paranoid. She might also have let it slip that she is quickly losing affection for him. Maybe.

It doesn't really matter, because before she knows it, she's silently bawling. Thirteen sits stock-still across from her, a mixture of fear and puzzlement plastered across her face. She's not really the type to know what to do in these situations; her first instinct is to leave the room, and her second is to continue sitting and staring, wide eyed. She bites her lip and decides neither is going to have a pleasant outcome.

Thankfully, it is late and the blinds are closed, giving them privacy from the rest of the hospital. Thirteen creeps over to Cameron and awkwardly rubs her shoulder. Cameron sniffles and wipes her eyes.

"Sorry," she chokes out. Thirteen reaches onto the table and drags over a box of tissues; Cameron blows her nose, and mumbles that she's fine, but tears are still streaming down her cheeks.

"Come on. Let's get you cleaned up," Thirteen tugs the blond up from her seat. Cameron stands without resistance and allows herself be steered across the hall and into the bathroom. As Thirteen guides her, she wonders why, exactly, she didn't excuse herself from the room once Cameron started crying. She could've hidden in her car. Her car made a very good hiding place.

Cameron wanders to the sink when they arrive at the bathroom; Thirteen locks the door behind them; the only thing worse than _Cameron_ sobbing would be a gossipy night-nurse _walking in_ on Cameron sobbing. The news would eventually be spread to Wilson, and inevitably reach House from there. Then they would never hear the end of it.

"Are you… alright?"

"Fine," Cameron seems to have regained her composure after splashing her face with water and is dabbing at her eyes with a paper towel. She gives Thirteen a sideways glance and half-smile.

"Thanks… and uh, sorry about that, again; I don't really know what happened back there."

Thirteen shrugs coolly and examines and tiling on the bathroom floor. The two women don't exactly have the greatest working relationship in the world, and Cameron's sudden vulnerability, plus Thirteen's kindness confuses them both. They stand in silence for another moment, this time neither of them about to walk out. There is a thin, thrumming tension in the air that feels as fragile as glass.

Cameron moves away from the sink and towards Thirteen, her brows arched and her innocent eyes wide, as if she is going to tell Thirteen something important. Thirteen licks her lips, yet holds her ground, not moving away from the alluring blonde, who she has secretly considered so alarmingly strong and complex. Cameron takes in a breath. Thirteen raises a brow, crosses her arms.

At that very moment, both their pagers go off.

**Author's Note: I'm back! Hope you enjoyed c: Please C&C (comment and crit.)**

** -Wallie**


	4. Six and Seven

_(six)_ **"Did you sleep okay last night?" **Cameron is hunched over in her car, one hand over one ear, the other pressing the phone to her cheek. An ambulance is coming roaring down the street opposite the parking lot, en route to the ER; the sirens are making it impossible to hear. Chase is on the other line, sounding groggy and slightly distant. Cameron sighs as he answers her.

"What? Yeah, fine."

"Chase… what's going on? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Allison," Chase snaps. "How was the night shift?"

"Fine, until our patient coded; tell House that our patient's left lung collapsed."

"I mean, how was working with Thirteen? You two don't really seem to get along." Chase's voice is testy and it raises the hair on the back of Cameron's neck. He's suspicious. He's suspicious of _her_ having an affair with a goddamn _woman._

"We didn't talk." Cameron's lie slips past Chase, who seems preoccupied in his own thoughts; her answer seems to be the one he was looking for. Cameron, on the other hand, can feel anxiety beginning to course through her veins. There is something going on; she has a feeling that something had happened during House's absence, and that Foreman and Chase were keeping it from her. She had seen Foreman shooting Chase glares of disparagement and authority more than usual; Cameron knows that normally Chase wouldn't take it. But between the guilty look her husband sometimes let flash behind his eyes and the surfacing of his paranoia, she wonders if this man is really her Robert. What is Foreman had walked in on him and a nurse?

Chase is loyal, isn't he? He's not like Taub, screwing every pretty nurse that wanders by… Cameron shakes the thought from her head. That wasn't fair to Taub. She doesn't know his prior circumstances, or him, really.

"Allison? You still there?"

"Huh?" Chase's question pulls Cameron from her mind. "Uh, yeah. I'm just really tired. I'm going to drive home and sleep a little. I'll be back tonight."

"Keep your pager on."

"I'll keep my goddamn pager on." Cameron snaps harshly. She hasn't forgiven the pager for its interruption last night. Now she can't remember what she was about to ask the brunette doctor.

"Alright, geez; get some sleep. Love you."

"Bye," Cameron hangs up and leans against the headrest. She's tempted to walk back into the hospital and sleep in the on-call room, but she really needs a shower and something to eat. Neither of which could be provided at a decent quality at the hospital.

She starts the car and is about to back out of her parking space when someone raps on the window. Cameron looks up and sighs, slightly annoyed by a statuesque doctor's presence. She rolls down the window.

"What?"

"The file; House needs the patient's medical records. They're not on the table." Thirteen squints in the sunlight, dark circles under her eyes. Even though she had managed to slink off to take a nap after their patient had stabilized, she still looks tired.

"Oh. Wait," Cameron reaches into the passenger seat and rifles through her bag, pulling out a fat manila file. "Here. I was going over them and forgot to put them back."

"Did you find anything of interest?" Thirteen tucks the file under her arm and brushes her hair away from her face. For a second, the way the sunlight catches her eyes and highlights the bones in her wrist, Thirteen looks fragile: human. Cameron feels all the air rush out of her. She takes a camouflaged gasp and pretends to rearrange her bag.

"Nothing; only that the guy is a huge douchewaffle; the lead poisoning he had a few years ago had been caused by a prison tattoo. He went to prison on assault charges; beat the crap out of his little sister when he found out she was a lesbian."

"Douchewaffle?" Thirteen had cringed slightly when Cameron told the story, but now she's showing a hinting of a smile at Cameron's term. Cameron shrugs at her and begins backing out of her parking space.

"Does House need anything else?"

"Nope," Thirteen turns on her heel and starts walking off. She's holding the file by the spine, keeping it as far away from her as possible. Her walk is rigid, slightly angry. Cameron rolls up her window and peals out of the parking lot. She has a feeling she's thinking the same thing as Thirteen.

They should have let him suffocate.

_(seven)_ **"Who was that?"** House raps his cane on the table of the Diagnostics room as Chase rounds the corner and hangs up his cell phone.

"Cameron."

"I see," House bobs his head and goes back to his laptop. Taub rolls his eyes; Foreman is currently with the patient, and although the nasally-endowed doctor is thankful for the break from the constantly negative man, he now has to deal with House.

"House, stop looking at porn," Taub says. "It's too early in the morning."

"It's not porn," House drawls the last syllable and rolls his eyes dramatically. "It's a music video."

"What music video?" Thirteen walks in and roughly slams the retrieved file down. House looks up; his interest sparked by her sudden question of his music video tastes.

"Lady Gaga."

"Counts as porn," Taub deadpans and reaches for the file, flipping through it.

"What kind porn do you watch? Jesus." Chase takes the file from Taub and sits down. Thirteen fixes herself a cup of coffee.

"Can we _please_ stop saying porn?" She sits on the far end of the table and gives House a look. House shrugs, "What's the matter, my half-baked rainbow friend? Not enjoying the blasphemous comments directed at your idol?"

"Idol my ass," Thirteen mumbles. A very faint, nearly inaudible 'yes, please,' escapes House's throat. Thirteen ignores him and pushes away the file when Taub passes it to her. She ignores the puzzled look and stirs her coffee, head down, eyes directed at the table. She can feel Chase's eyes boring into her head. House and Taub are arguing over a theory, but she tunes them out. She doesn't want to become involved in the case. She no longer wants to cure this man.

"Brain or heart? Scarecrow or Tin-Man?"

"What?" Thirteen snaps. Chase gestures to the whiteboard, which House has scribbled all over; while she was spacing out, it looks like Taub and House had gotten into a fierce argument.

"Brain; there definitely something wrong with his brain." Thirteen pushes the file away without a second thought and Chase gives her a puzzled look.

"I win," House points to Chase and Thirteen. "You two, go do a spinal tap." Chase sighs but leaves without protest; Thirteen breezes out behind him.

"Are you alright?"

"Dandy," Thirteen turns away from Chase and stares over at the nurse's station. Wilson is there, chatting up that female nurse. He turns and sees her, giving her a concerned look. Thirteen wonders what House is up to.

"How was the patient last night?"

"He nearly died. But he was totally fine, other than that." Thirteen stares straight ahead. Chase is silent for a moment, before asking: "Have you noticed Cameron acting a little strange?"

"I'm not getting involved." The brunette opens the door of their patient's room and grabs his chart, without a word to the man sitting up in bed. Scanning through it, she comes across the on-call list that House made to prevent 'his children from fighting.'

Her heart skips a beat, and she can feel heat rising into her cheeks; a small, terrible panic flutters in her stomach. For the next two days, House has both all-night shifts assigned to her and Cameron.

Oh boy.

**Author's Note: I AM A TERRIBLE TEASE. I'm sorry :c Were they going to kiss? Or talk? Or kiss and tell? Keep following for the answer! (and comment for faster updates! It really does motivate me, lol.)**

**Lady Gaga reference in celebration of Mommy Monster's birthday. Have a great week, everyone. (Sorry, I'm kind of a goofball right now.)**

**--Wallie**


	5. Eight, Nine 'Back & Forth'

_(eight) _**"Do you love me?"** Thirteen leans close to Cameron and licks her lips. Cameron swallows hard and tries to move away, but the brunette has her pinned in place, curled up in a chair in the corner of a patient's room. Thirteen has an amused look painted on her face, and Cameron can smell the woman's shampoo. She smells so amazingly good, and her eyes are a brilliant shade of green.

"Do I get an answer?" God, Thirteen's lips are so close. She leans in and kisses the bridge of Cameron's nose and cups her face; she nuzzles the blonde's jawbone tenderly and pauses, centimeters away from Cameron's lips.

"Cat got your tongue?" Thirteen leans in, and Cameron lunges hungrily, kissing Thirteen deeply. Thirteen mumbles something, but Cameron ignores her. She runs her palms up the younger doctor's sides and presses their bodies together. Thirteen moans softly, and shifts her position; suddenly there are cold claws gripping Cameron's arms and the wail of a heart monitor replaces Thirteen's voice.

"Wake up!" Thirteen is shaking Cameron like a ragdoll; two nurses are flying in through the door with a crash cart. Cameron jumps to attention and follows Thirteen's lead as she preps the patient to be shocked. The monitor screams as the patient goes into tachy and back into a normal sinus rhythm.

Thirteen mumbles something and grabs his chart. Cameron checks his vitals. They glance at each other, and there is a glint of bemusement in Thirteen's eyes. Cameron swallows hard and looks away.

They don't talk for the rest of the night.

_(nine) _**"Dr. Cameron, are you alright?" **Thirteen greets the blonde 24 hours later with a coffee and a slight smile. It is suspiciously out of character. Cameron frowns.

"Drained, that's all." she answers. Their patient is steadily declining and they are no closer to finding out what is wrong with him. Thirteen occasionally glances at his vitals with disinterest. Ethically, Cameron supposes she should request Thirteen be taken off the case, though there is no proof of actual misconduct, and the action would probably further damage their already awkward relationship.

"Is he asleep?" Cameron asks. Thirteen nods and settles in a chair with her magazine. Of course the patient was asleep. They had put him in a medical coma. She should've known that. Cameron sighs and glances around the room, thinking. He really didn't need to me monitored anymore, but it got her away from Chase for the time being, so she saw no point in complaining to House.

Thirteen glances over at Cameron from time to time. If she were a cat, her tail would be twitching, ticking back and forth in thought. She wonders if there is any particular reason Dr. Cameron gave her a look like a lovestruck puppy and jolted when she shook her awake the other night. Ignoring it for the moment, she returns to her other stream of thought and wonders why her relationships with other women were so difficult. It had been easy to get along with Kutner… oh, god, not even going there. Nope.

"Bitter coffee?" Thirteen comes out of her thought-coma and looks up at Cameron. She nods her head yes, mentally making a note to try and keep tabs of the faces she made.

"Ah," Cameron nods and starts chatting about something. Thirteen subconsciously bites her tongue. They had had rare conversations before, and they seemed to have gone over well, for the most part. And now they are both exhausted and manic, giggling like school girls.

In the end, neither can comprehend what has happened. By sunrise, they seem to be getting along, and whether it is by miracle, mutual interest in hospital gossip, or a combination of both is unknown. The sun peaks over the horizon and the two share a lazy smile.

They have just earned themselves a day without the boys.

Tiredly, they make their final notes in the chart and shuffle out into the parking lot. They stare at each other for a moment, taking in the raccoon eyes and disheveled hair.

"Dr. Cameron, why were you mumbling my name in your sleep last night?" Thirteen's question stops Cameron in her tracks. She turns.

"Dr. Hadley, why did you follow me into the bathroom?"

"I really don't know," Thirteen crosses her arms.

"None of these questions are very professional," Cameron shifts her weight and folds her arms as well.

"Since when is House's team ever professional?" Thirteen snaps back. They're starting to become their old selves again and Cameron frowns.

"Never." She takes a step closer to Thirteen and drops her arms.

"Dr. Cameron, are you aware of the look you gave me when I shook you awake?" Thirteen drops her arms and steps closer as well.

"I'll see you later, Dr. Hadley," Cameron steps away and starts towards her car, leaving Thirteen to stare after her and shake her head.

_Women. _

**author's note: I am back lovelies, and so sorry for the long wait! I haven't been writing lately, and Life Happened, so I am trying to get back into the feel of this story, so apologies if this chapter feels a little off. **

** C&C is always appreciated, and I swear I am back now, haha! (Also I am still a realist at heart when it comes to these two, boo)**

**-Wallie**


	6. Ten: 'Imaginary Numbers'

_(ten) _**"Do you smell that?"** Foreman wrinkles his nose and glances around the diagnostics room. Taub notes in the affirmative and covers his rather bulbous nose. Thirteen hacks in response to the smell and stands, peering out into the hallway. It's been a week since her awkward end of shift with Dr. Cameron, and the two had barely talked since then. Actually, she had hardly seen the other woman or her Australian counterpart at all lately. They were missing this morning, in addition to House.

"Uh, excuse me but, have you seen… oh God," Wilson steps into the conference room and nearly chokes. "It's worse in here."

"Not me," Taub deadpans. Thirteen rolls her eyes and begins to open the windows.

"House, has anyone seen House this morning?" Wilson holds his nose and tries his best to talk over the coughing that is beginning to echo down the hallway.

"No," Thirteen says. "Our patient was discharged two days ago. I'm guessing House is taking the day off. Again."

"I didn't hear him come home last night."

"I'll tell you if he shows up," Thirteen coughs again. "Now what the hell is that smell?"

"Sorry, people, there is something wrong with the vent system. It should be fixed soon!" The clicking of heels and Cuddy's yelling down the hallway signals her arrival to the Diagnostic Department. She stops at the doorway next to Wilson and surveys the area.

"Where the hell is House?"

"Aren't you more concerned with the smell?" Foreman snaps back. He and Thirteen are working double team to increase the ventilation.

"Someone meddled with the airflow in the negative pressure rooms. And the morgue. We've got a patient with massive gangrene in addition to thawed bodies. Do the math. Where is House?"

"I have no idea." Wilson shakes his head. Cuddy sighs and throws her arms up.

"I want to know the _second_ someone sees him. Are you finished with your case?"

"Mostly?" Taub answers.

"Fine then. Taub, Foreman, I need you down in the clinic. Two of the attendings passed out and I need you to cover. Maintenance is on its way to hopefully clear this place out. Okay." On the turn of her heel, Cuddy vanishes down the hall.

"You didn't get clinic duty," Foreman mutters to Thirteen.

"Bisexual wiles," She mumbles back.

Thirteen heads towards her car, fumbling with her car keys. After finalizing her case report and submitting the last of the forms, the team was finally done. She supposes she was lucky that she escaped clinic duty –now Taub and Foreman were stuck in the hospital and she was free to go. House hadn't shown up, and neither had Cameron, nor Chase, though these things are hardly her problem. She looks up at the sky, which is graying and beginning to rumble in the distance. Fat raindrops splatter against the pavement. Thirteen climbs into her car and kicks the engine into gear.

A slight melancholy hangs in the air as the storm quickly passes. It leaves the world filled with the fresh smell of chemicals, liberated from the dirt.

Thirteen showers when she arrives home, and pulls on sweats. She opens the windows and lets the new air waft in and out. Spongebob Squarepants is muted on the television. The afternoon is relaxing, for once, and Thirteen is miles away from reality, engrossed in _Lolita._ Her eyes are narrowed and she sucks in her cheeks, puzzled.

There is a knock at the door, and through the curtains, the hem of a very familiar grey coat is visible.

_Oh._

**Author's Note: MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.**

**Thank you for all your kind comments, and I am so stoked that I have REVIVED ONE'S LOVE OF FANFICTION. All of your awesome feed back is exciting. (Also I should lay off the chocolate soy milk. Anyways.) If you want to stalk updates and submit requests:**

**/walliefeed**

**I mainly just ramble to myself about writing projects because it keeps me organized. I don't talk about my socks, or my pets, I swear. /shameless plug**


	7. Eleven

_(eleven) _**"What are you doing here?"** Thirteen frowns as she surveys House, who is mirroring her look. She's not sure if he is trying to be sarcastic or not.

"I was just in the neighborhood…"

"Sure. You weren't at work today. You missed the fanfare." Thirteen deadpans. She spots a car pulled curbside and pushes past House.

"What the hell, Eric?!" Foreman sits at the wheel, shrugging innocently.

"You wouldn't answer your phone," House steps in front of Thirteen, locking eyes with her and blocking her view of Foreman.

"Yes, generally one does not answer their phone when they don't want to be bothered," Thirteen snaps back. "What? What do you want?"

"The lovebirds didn't show up today."

"Yes, and neither did you, and I'm failing to see how any of this is related to me."

"Taub is stuck on clinic duty, we have a new patient, Cameron showed up but won't talk to either House or I, and we need you to come in," Foreman yells from the car. House rolls his eyes and makes a 'yeah, that' gesture with his hand. "Come in or you're fired." he adds. Thirteen grumbles something about getting changed and slams the door in his face. Fifteen minutes later, she's in the backseat of Foreman's car, House riding shotgun.

Dr. Cameron is in her usual seat when the three arrive back at the Diagnostics room. She's pouring over a file and clicking the end of her pen. The sound instantly drives Thirteen up a wall and she grits her teeth all the way through Foreman's case debrief. She manages to keep it together until Foreman and House leave the room, but not a second after.

"For the love of _God_, please just stop that incessant clicking!" Thirteen barks. She roughly grabs Cameron's hand. Cameron barely reacts, just going limp in Thirteen's grip and dropping the pen. She slowly turns her head to look at the foxlike woman.

"Oh, sorry," she mutters. Thirteen stiffens. This is not the reaction she was expecting. What if Cameron starts bawling again? She doesn't think she has the strength, willpower, or empathy to go through that again. She has to leave before it can begin, nip it in the bud. Right then and there Thirteen resolves to leave the room as quickly as humanly possible. She'll say she left her car lights on –wait, no, Foreman drove her here. She needs to go to the restroom? But then she'd have to come back… Oh, she could—

"Are you alright?" Thirteen's mouth says. Thirteen's brain dies a thousand deaths. Thirteen's body is awkwardly half standing up. All of Thirteen wants to literally facepalm, but she forces herself to sit back down again. Cameron looks at her strangely, though whether the strange look is due to Thirteen's second round of sudden empathy or to Thirteen's violent battle with herself is up for interpretation.

"Just distracted," Cameron says softly.

"You really shouldn't be here if you're just going to be distracted by your personal life," Thirteen grumbles. Cameron continues to give her a confused, pained look.

"Please let go of my wrist." she says quietly. Thirteen blinks and releases her grip on Cameron's arm. That was one way to avoid a heartfelt conversation. That was also embarrassing. Remy-Hadley-for-Most-Embarrassing-Moment-at-Work-2012 embarrassing.

"Sorry," Thirteen mumbles. She sheepishly gets up, takes a book of the shelf, and takes a seat on the other end of the table. The two women resume work, Cameron dully staring at the whiteboard, and Thirteen occasionally staring at Cameron.

She really couldn't figure out how she felt about the other woman. Yes, she was pretty, but she had the most infuriating pretentious manner that drove Thirteen up a wall, yet drew her in. It was the definition of a hate crush, but at the moment Thirteen couldn't bring herself to feel anything for the woman except for pity. It was starting to get to be the dead of night, and Cameron has been staring at the whiteboard for hours, shadows in her skin illuminated by the harsh fluorescents above. She looks so broken, so weak, hunched over in a way that strikes a chord in Thirteen's heart. It's like looking in a mirror.

Thirteen is going to have to do it. She's going to have to ask the question. The conversation is going to happen, she is going to have to have it, and she is going to have to sit there again and listen to Cameron's relationship issues while pretending she cares. To say no was to kick a kitten in the face. And Thirteen was terribly fond of pussies.

"Dr. Cameron…" Thirteen starts. Cameron swings around, all the troubles of the world reflected in her eyes

"I think I'm going to quit. The hospital, all of it. Just leave. I think I need to just leave," Cameron blurts. Thirteen blinks.

_Oh._ Well that was unexpected.

**Author's Note: Hi! It's been like two years and I am not dead. Things have been happening. I am moving cross-country tomorrow but I am determined to finish this. I've forgotten a lot of House MD things so excuse me if this goes a bit AU.**


End file.
